


The First Thing

by Valinde (Valyria)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Beads, Basically Porn, Bottom Dean, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Not Beta Read, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-22 01:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1571720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valyria/pseuds/Valinde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean figures out what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Thing

The first thing Dean does is look. His eyes slide idly over Castiel, over the line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth, the soft curls of hair that lie dark against the nape of his neck. He zones out, finds himself staring at Cas’s lips as he speaks, or his hands as his long fingers trace sigils in looping swirls, the shape of bones beneath pale skin holding his attention with a pull that confuses him.

The second thing Dean does is dream. His subconscious takes those lingering looks, that frustrated want he doesn’t even understand and gives him dreams about Castiel. He doesn’t dream of a lake or a dock, of a man in a suit and trenchcoat. His dreams are shapeless in all things save Castiel himself. Warm skin, long stretches of it smooth and alive beneath Dean’s hands. That jaw tilted back and away from him, a long neck bared so he can put his mouth there, scrape his teeth and tongue across skin that tastes like a rainstorm and listen to an angel groan low and deep against his lips. He dreams of tight glorious heat, of Castiel wrapped around him, holding him close, spread out for him naked and wanting, letting Dean have him, slide into him and break him apart.

When he has those dreams he wakes up breathless and disorientated, his dick a hard throbbing line curled up tight against his stomach.

But they aren’t the only dreams Dean has of Castiel. He dreams of a fist curled tight in his hair, of fingers digging into his hips or strong hands around his wrists holding him down, of sharp teeth at his throat and Castiel’s breath hot in his ear as he fucks into him, opens him up, works his way inside of Dean and burns him out from the inside.

When he has those dreams he wakes up panting with a name on his lips and a wet mess in his shorts.

The third thing Dean does is think. His thinks hard, frowns into black diner coffee and scowls as he peels the label of cheap bottles of beer. Castiel circles around his brain, guilt and denial and anger. He can hardly bear to look at him, and yet turning away from him is impossible. Dean looks at him, the different parts that add up to him, and he swallows around a suddenly dry throat.

The fourth thing Dean does isn’t one thing at all. It starts of innocently enough, the occasional thought of dark hair or chapped lips as he jerks off quietly in the shower, then a hand clenched tight over the faded brand on his arm as the other pulls franticly at his cock, then it’s fingers, two of them, then three, shoved up ass as he humps a hotel mattress whenever his brother’s out for a few hours. It good but it doesn’t feel as good as his dreams, as that thick white-hot ache that has him moaning in his sleep and Sam looking at him side-ways. It’s an itch under his skin. He looks at Cas, his tongue when it darts out to wet his lips or his long fingers curled around his angel blade, he looks at him and then he turns away, blood rushing to his face.

The fifth thing Dean does is sneak off to an adult shop when Sam thinks he's interviewing a witness. He pretends he's buying the stuff for someone else, _'his girlfriend'_ , he tells the bored guy at the register. He starts small, a string of silicone beads that he covers in lube and presses inside himself one after the other with hands that shake. The feeling of _full_ is good, has his dick hard and throbbing and hips shifting in hungry little movements he doesn’t recognize, and it only takes a few jerking pulls on his dick to have him shuddering and gasping and curling his toes as he comes all over himself, but it’s the wrong sort of full, nothing like the heat he’s chasing.

It takes him weeks to scrounge up the courage, but eventually he has an evening to himself and he pulls out the vibrator he’s had tucked away in his duffle for a while now.  He rips it out of the bright packaging and shoves the incriminating plastic at the bottom of the trash under empty beer cans and burger wrappers. It’s pink. And… dick sized, if only vaguely dick shaped. It’s a little smaller than the real deal, but Dean figures that’s a good thing. He holds up three fingers and compares them, considering. He’s never had anything bigger up there and even that, the… the _fingering_ … that whole thing is new.

When he grips the thing in his hand, gets his fingers wrapped around the thick shape of it, he can’t deny the curl of heat that twists through him at the thought that it’s gonna go _inside_ him. He can barely get naked fast enough.

He’s nervous, feels weirdly panicked as he shoves batteries in the thing and tries it out. A push of the button set into the base and its buzzing in his hand. Another push – faster, another – faster again. It’s got half a dozen speed settings and the last one is so fast it makes Dean’s entire arm vibrate. He’s tempted to just lube it up and try to shove it straight in – his dick’s already joined the party, hard and flushed without even being touched – but he’s got time and he’s been wanting this for so long it seems, so he stretches out on top of the covers and starts with his fingers instead.

He’s done this whenever he’s had the chance the last few months and the first finger goes in deep and easy. He takes the second a little slower and he draws that out, stretching himself slowly, teasing himself before sliding in number three. He’s a slippery mess of lube down there but there’s still a bit of a burn as he presses in, but he likes it, pushes deeper, tilts his head back and closes his eyes, pretends that Cas is down there, kneeling between his thighs stretching him open on his fingers to take his cock…

He reaches for the vibrator blindly, heart racing. He squirts lube all over it and nearly drops the thing, but then he’s got his knees bent and up in air and it’s nudging past his balls, slipping between his cheeks and butting against his ass. The feel of the blunt head of it pressing against him where’s he’s all flushed and sensitive it the best kind of tease. He dugs his feet in and pushes, tries to get it in, but the angle’s wrong, he can’t get his hips high enough.

He rolls on his stomach and reaches back, trying from behind – and oh fuck – yeah that’s better. Dean pushes, feels himself opening up for it, slick hard silicone so much bigger than his fingers bearing down into him. It feels amazing, the burn of it sweet and aching. It hurts, but Dean just pushes harder, pants into the mattress and slowly forces the huge-feeling head of it in past his rim. His nerves wind up impossibly, making him shake with it as he _finally_ gets what he’s been wanting for so long, as he pushes until something gives and it slips in an inch or two almost easily.

“Fuck. _fuckfuck—“_

His ass is clenching and fluttering around the thick shape of it. He’s sweating, his skin flaming and clammy, and he’s hardly moved but he’s panting like he’s winded. The plastic cock isn’t even halfway in, but there’s a sticky smear across his belly where his eager dick’s leaked. It burns, the stretch of it, and he simultaneously wants to shove it all the way in, fuck himself open on it, and tear it out and throw it across the room.

He feels exposed. Crouched on the bed naked, ass in the air and dildo hanging out of his ass. He can’t relax, keeps looking towards the window even though the blinds are tightly shut. It feels so good though… He reaches back and pushes on the base, slides it a little deeper. His dick throbs and his ass clenches and flexes. Face planted in the mattress he worms his arm under his chest and grabs at the brand on his opposite bicep. With his eyes closed it’s easy to imagine that it’s Castiel’s hand there, Castiel’s cock sliding into him, stretching him wide, just like in his dreams. He shifts, rolls his hips, groans into the bedding as he slowly pushes the vibrator in the rest of the way.

It hurts. Hot and bright and _perfect._ It’s not as good as the dreams, but it’s almost. He tries to work up a rhythm, pulling in and out, but it’s awkward, he can’t get the angle right and there’s something he’s missing, something just out of reach. He groans and fumbles with slippery fingers for the button on the base. The sudden buzz of it vibrating deep inside startles a strangled sort of yell out of him and then he’s drooling into the sheets moaning like a whore as he slowly fucks himself. It feels so good but it’s not enough not right and he ends up gasping Castiel’s name in desperate little whimpers as he tries to conjure up the heat of those dreams.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s been doing until there’s a hand  on the back of his neck and an answer in the low gravelly tone he’s been jerking off to for what feels like forever. “Dean.”

He flinches, almost falls of the bed as he tries to simultaneously cover himself, get off the bed and push Castiel away. The hand on his neck just slides down between his shoulder blades and presses though and he’s trapped, pinned like an insect.

“Cas I…” there’s no explanation, no reason he can give for moaning the angel’s name while fucking himself on a plastic dick. The buzz of it, still buried in his ass, seems deafening in the room. Castiel is gonna throw him back in the pit, smite his eyes out of his skull or something, Dean’s sure. Except his dick isn’t getting the memo and he’s still hanging rock hard and throbbing between his legs.

“Shh,” Castiel says, almost absently, and then he’s touching Dean, and in a decidedly un-smitey way, trailing fingers across his ass and pressing down on the base of the vibrator. Dean splutters as it twists inside him. “You are doing this incorrectly,” Castiel tells him as he shifts it a little, presses it deeper and adjusts the angle. “Stimulation to the prostate is key to ejaculation during this particular sex act.” Dean moans loudly as the whirring head of the thing is suddenly nestled right up against what Cas is talking about judging from how fucking fantastic it feels.

“There,” Castiel says. “Better?”

Dean tries to form a response but all that comes out is a breathy little whimper.

Castiel hums and starts slowly fucking Dean, drawing the vibrator out and sliding it back in, slick wet noises filling the room as he grinds it right up against that bundle of nerves that seems to set off fireworks behind Dean's eyelids. It’s good, it’s _so fucking good_ , has Dean moaning and rocking back and forth greedily, but it’s still not enough, he wants more. Well, maybe not _more,_ but Cas. Dean wants _Cas_ sliding into him not a piece of plastic. And he’s horny enough, desperate enough, that he actually asks. He lifts his head and meets Castiel’s eyes over his shoulder for the first time since he blew into the room. They’re blown, huge and black, and when Dean bites at his bottom lip they skip down his face to stare at his mouth, transfixed. “Cas,” he says. “Want you. Wanna feel you. Want it so bad.”

It's the most embarrassing needy clichéd shit, but Dean can't bring himself to care.

Castiel doesn’t ask for clarification or further encouragement, he just climbs onto the bed fully and then he’s suddenly naked and Dean’s craning his neck trying to get a proper look at him, drink in all that skin he’s only dreamed about, but Cas is pulling at him. He’s strong, far stronger than he looks, than anything man-shaped Dean’s ever encountered, and he pulls Dean up onto his knees and into his lap with ease.

The vibrator is yanked out and tossed aside to twitch and rattle abandoned on the floor, and then Cas’s _dick_ is sliding up between the sticky mess of lube painting Dean’s ass and riding his crack. The feel of him, warm and soft and real and electrifying has Dean’s back arching and his hands reaching back for some part of Cas to hold onto. Cas locks onto his hip with one hand and guides Dean up, and then down, down, down _onto_ him.

It’s nothing like the fucking dildo. Cas’s hot and hard and _throbbing_ and he slides up into Dean like he’s making a home for himself there, fills him up fucking perfectly and leaves him practically shaking with it. _“Cas,”_ Dean hisses, yanking on Cas’s hair, trying to breathe, taking great gulps of air as he twists his hips and whines low in his throat, unable to even comprehend the intensity of what he’s feeling.

Cas moans, a deep filthy noise, and jerks up a little, burying himself that final tender inch. Dean swallows. He feels split open. Stretched impossibly wide. He presses his hand to his stomach half expecting to somehow feel Cas there, impaling him completely. Then Castiel’s shifting beneath him, rocking up into him in with slow deep rolls of his hips that have Dean lighting up from the inside.

It’s better than the dreams. Castiel’s hand lines up perfectly with the brand on his arm and when he takes hold of him there Dean feels a bright ache somewhere deep in his chest. Castiel holds him tight against his chest and fucks him deep and slow. When Dean’s muscles protest, when he turns to jelly entirely, the angel presses him down onto his stomach and fucks him into the mattress, rough and quick. Dean comes with Castiel teeth buried in his shoulder and his dick so deep he can practically taste it. It’s a white-out that melts his brain and leaves him limp and noodley. Castiel flips him onto his back, pulls his legs over his shoulders and slides right back into him.

His fists Dean’s spent dick, making him hiss, then slides his fingers through the smears of come cooling on his skin before pressing his wet fingers into his mouth. Dean moans weakly at the sight, at the way Castiel licks at his fingers, at the webbing between and the palm of his hand, like he’s hungry for it.

He doesn’t even recognize the noises the angel wrests from him as he fucks his pliant, orgasm-loose body hard and fast. Dean just holds on and takes it, braces himself against the headboard as it slaps against the wall and wails and chokes on Cas’s dick. And then he’s somehow hard all over again and this time when he comes - when it’s stripped directly out of his bones it feels like – Castiel is panting and gasping right there with him, and it’s the feel of him pulsing and hot, spilling inside, that pushes him of the edge a second time.

The sixth thing Dean does is kiss Castiel.

**Author's Note:**

> spontaneous midnight tumblr porn


End file.
